


Kotov Syndrome

by butraura



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: ... for now, But it takes place in S7 and so far there hasn't been much, Clarke is checked the hell out, Disciple!Bellamy, F/M, Gen, I just neeeeeeded to post this, I'll get into Hope/Echo/Gabriel, I'll tag relationships as they happen I guess, M/M, Please read, She wants to save everyone but her passion is gone, So yeah, Speculation, and also Octavia/Diyoza, anomaly stuff, i suck at tagging but, idk sorry!, s7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24730012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butraura/pseuds/butraura
Summary: S7 Spec. Bellamy ends up on Bardo where they ransack his memories of Clarke while looking for very specific pieces of information about the woman they call the "key". Clarke, Raven, and others learn more about the Anomaly while on Nakara and try to make their way to their missing friends.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Kotov Syndrome

Bellamy had no idea that when he went with Octavia to learn more about the Anomaly, he’d be thrown across the forest by an invisible force and taken to some place called _Bardo_. He also had no idea that the green fog/mist thing would be a bridge to this Bardo place and he had no idea that all of this would result in him losing Octavia in the process.

He wished he’d known. Perhaps it could have stopped the next sequence of events. Perhaps it could have stopped the decontamination (which reminded him too closely of the pain he endured at Mount Weather). Perhaps it could have stopped the shock collar and the subsequent pain radiating through his veins with every unacceptable answer.

Perhaps it could have prevented the current situation, in which Bellamy is being held down to an examination chair with binds so strong it feels like he’s losing circulation in his limbs.

The room Bellamy is in is small, but the white sterility of the walls coupled with the lights is the recipe for gruesome headaches and it’s the first break in his resolve. The nameless, faceless doctors remain behind makes and out of eyesight and keep all interaction strictly silent. No one makes any move to address him, even when they’re fiddling with his clothes or restraints. No one lingers in front of him too long.

They’re very careful, and for that, Bellamy grows worried. He fears these people, whoever they are, have abilities beyond the likes of which he’s ever seen. He prays that they’ll slip up and he’ll find a chink in their armor.

He’s not sure if he’s there for hours, days, seconds, years. The silence is deafening in between visits from white coats. His heartbeat is what keeps him grounded during moments he feels he’s about to collapse into madness.

After a long while - he assumes maybe a day or two, after learning to count the beats of his heart as seconds - some of the white coats return with a metal contraption he soon realizes is for his head. They try it out on him intermittently, making notes of any adjustments that need to be made and correcting them before each visit.

This time they arrive, a man is with them, and he doesn’t appear to care that Bellamy can see his face. He can see him in grave detail, in fact, each imperfection or prominent feature fully on display like he _wants_ Bellamy to take careful note of what he looks like. This man is cold. Much like Dante Wallace of Mount Weather. Older, stark white hair, a maniacal grin that would make mortal men quake in their boots. His voice doesn’t resonate, it slithers, and the way it demands to be heard is pervasive.

Bellamy can’t speak because of the gag, nor does he have the energy, but the man seems to know what he’s thinking.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Blake,” he greets with a smile that would send the devil screaming. He nods towards him and immediately one of the doctors approaches Bellamy, gently removing the cloth from his mouth.

“Where the hell am I?” Bellamy grunts hoarsely.

“You’re on Bardo,” the man says matter-of-factly, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Where the hell is Octavia?” he demands.

“Octavia Blake - your sister,” the man states, not a question. Bellamy nods hesitantly. “Second child to Aurora Blake. Imprisoned at 16 years old when the Chancellor of the Ark found out Aurora had broken the population laws. Aurora was floated. You were stripped of the Guard detail.”

Bellamy swallows uncomfortably. “Y-yeah. Where is she?” he repeats.

“I’m afraid Octavia isn’t available for comment, Mr. Blake,” the man informs him. “She is on Bardo, I can tell you. In fact, she’s being fitted for one of these,” - he motions to the doctor holding the headgear he’s become familiar with.

“ _Why,_ ” he begs, writhing against the restraints.

“Now, Bellamy, calm down.”

“Who are you?”

“You can call me Anders.”

“So what do you want with us?” Bellamy presses.

“Your lineage dates back centuries, Mr. Blake,” Anders explains. “Your reputations precede you. From what we understand, you and your sister are some of the best warriors the universe has seen since Earth. Believe it or not, our leader believes that you two can help us get salvation.”

“I-” Bellamy isn’t sure if it’s the hunger, thirst, or exhaustion getting to him, maybe a combination of all three, but he simply cannot grasp what this man is telling him. “What reputation? Who’s your leader?”

“You will meet him - in time.” Anders rounds to get closer to Bellamy. “But first - you will help us learn about your world, its people, and you will tell us about Clarke Griffin.”

Bellamy’s stomach drops. “Why? What- what do you need with Clarke?” There’s no way in hell he’d ever willingly give her up.

Anders smiles. “Information you will become privy to in time, Mr. Blake. Once you tell us what we need to know.”

Bellamy shakes his head in defiance. “I’m not telling you anything,” he spits.

Anders’ expression never falters. “You don’t have to,” he says simply. “That’s what this is for.” The doctor with the device surprises Bellamy then as they gently secure it around his temple. 

“Hey - stop!” Bellamy grunts, trying to fight them to no avail. “No!”

Anders’ smile becomes more infuriating the longer he wears it and he watches Bellamy in amusement. “Mr. Blake,” he murmurs. “Enough. If you’ve proven nothing else, you’ve shown that the restraints aren’t going anywhere.”

Bellamy sinks back down in recognition. The man was right. He’s stuck here.

* * *

Bellamy screams in agony as a shock rips through his insides as he refuses to answer another question about Clarke. He gasps a strangulated choke. “Stop,” he begs angrily.

“Mr. Blake,” Anders coos. “I’ve about exhausted all the patience I have for you, today, I’m afraid. So, just tell me if we need be worried about Clarke Griffin.”

Bellamy can’t help it - he laughs.

Anders must decide he’s had it, then. He snaps his fingers and one of the doctors gets closer to Bellamy’s head, promptly pressing a button on the device. He feels it whir to life then, as he sees a projector screen slowly lower from the ceiling.

He watches, his breathing ragged, his mind racing, his heart pounding. “What is this?” he croaks out. His throat burns - how long has it been since he’s had a drink?

Anders sighs as he gets in front of Bellamy once more. “Alright, Mr. Blake,” he starts. “I’m going to give you one more opportunity to tell me the relevant information I need about one Clarke Griffin.”

“Can you just tell me _why_?” he asks, wincing in anticipation of the shock he expects is to follow. It doesn’t.

“Our leader believes in the divinity of our world. The Shepherd bestows on us his blessings,” Anders explains simply. “He believes Clarke Griffin is a threat to our way. Therefore she must be stopped.”

Bellamy looks at him in absolute disbelief. “You-” he pauses for a beat. “This is just some religious cult? You want to kill a girl because of your _religion_?”

“ _Wars_ have been fought over religion for longer than time has been measured, Mr. Blake. You’d do well to not forget that. This is the last war we’ll ever face. The elimination of Clarke Griffin will be the prosperity of us all.”

Bellamy wants to say something else, scream profanities at these wackadoodles maybe, but he can’t. The device around his temple begins to squeeze then and he’s all but paralyzed as the screen roars to life. The first thing he sees - because they make _sure_ he’s watching - is the moment he first met Clarke: the dropship when he was about to open the door for the first time ever.

He’s seeing it as if he were reliving it, like if he reached out in front of him he could actually touch the young woman yelling at him for being so careless. But he can’t move, and this isn’t real.

The memories cycle fairly quickly. Clarke killing Adam, Clarke trying to protect him from Dax, Clarke forgiving him after he killed Dax. Clarke smiling at him under the moonlight on Unity Day, and Clarke asking him to go with her to talk to the grounders. Clarke looking at him with frantic eyes from all the way up on the bridge as he shoots Anya and - thankfully doesn’t miss. Clarke closing the dropship door when the grounders were invading and the way he wanted to run to her but was under assault. Him running away from the dropship as the threat of the ring of fire loomed. 

He wonders why he was seeing that particular memory. The general theme seems to be Clarke-based moments and that one didn’t have her in it at all. No matter, he supposes, because his life continues before him without time to dwell.

Clarke barrelling into his arms, an urgency he hadn’t seen in her before then, him hugging her back. Her confiding in him after Finn’s massacre. Clarke putting Finn out of his misery by killing him in front of the grounder army.

Anders takes particular note of this memory.

And it continues.

* * *

Clarke lands on this snowy ice planet because _of course she does_ , when has anything ever turned out easy for her?

It’s cold and bright and she couldn’t tell you what time of day it was. In fact, what she _could_ tell you could fit a Post-It note.

**They’re stranded on this planet.** **  
****The Anomaly Stone is the only way** ** _off_** **the planet.  
** **The longer they’re here, the more likely it is that either they will die, or their friends on some other weird time-dilated planet will die.**

Clarke doesn’t like not knowing what to do. So she sets off wordlessly in some direction while the others argue.

Raven hobbles after her as quickly as she can. “Clarke - wait.”

“There’s no time, Raven,” the blonde tells her, continuing her path to nowhere.

Annoyed, the mechanic turns to the others with an exasperated look and they begin to follow begrudgingly. Raven tries to fall in step with Clarke and grabs her arm. “Clarke, can I ask you something?” she starts quietly.

Clarke actually looks surprised, but nods. “Yeah.”

“How do you move past this?” The _this_ being killing the few to save the many, Clarke knows. “I- I hope that doesn’t sound bad or anything. I just… I can’t shake their faces. I killed people that trusted me.” Tears start to well in her eyes.

Clarke frowns as she looks at her friend. “It’s never easy, Raven,” she tells her softly. “I mean that. I know a lot of you think I make these decisions like they are, but they’re not. It’s never easy watching people die around you for decisions you made. It’s never easy watching people hate you for those decisions, either.” She’s silent for a moment before continuing. “It’s like I said earlier. A few dead now, or us all dead later. It’s a problem you have to weigh. What was it you said before - _impossible choices_? You’re right,” Clarke laughs. “Ever since my father found out the Ark was dying, I’ve been making decisions that have affected others. Choices to stay, choices to go. But when it’s a matter of life and death, there is no choice, Raven. You do what you can with the information that you have. You knew that they might have died. But you sent them in there anyway. And because you did, Sanctum gets to fight another day. The choice that keeps the most people alive is always the right one.”

Raven takes a shaky breath and nods in understanding. They’re quiet for a few minutes, the indistinct chatter behind them filling the silence. It may be only a few minutes or it could be twenty, but eventually she speaks again, this time looping her arm in Clarke’s. “I’m sorry.”

Her friend nearly stops dead in her tracks. “For what?”

“For being so quick to judge you,” Raven answers. “I guess I just assumed you didn’t care about us as much as you claimed to. It probably started because of Finn. Maybe I never forgave you for that. I’m so sorry. I wish it didn’t take this for me to understand.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go through it at all, Raven. It’s not something I’d wish on anyone. It’s like being locked in a cell and all you have to do to get the key is forgive yourself. So, you know, I’ve been boxed in since the grounder bridge,” she chuckles half-heartedly.

The truth weighs heavily on Raven but she just nods. Perhaps she still didn’t understand Clarke’s pain, but maybe she’d have a better appreciation now.

Miller catches up and takes the other side of Clarke’s. “So, where are we going?” he asks, taking equal strides.

“There’s a mountain up ahead,” she shrugs. “I figure we try there and see what happens.”

* * *

His scream echoes throughout the tiny room.

By the time his memories had reached watching Clarke take the key to the City of Light, they’d gradually started shocking him once more. And with each subsequent memory the pain got worse.

They’d stopped at the memory of Bellamy driving Jaha and Clarke to the bunker before Praimfaya. They took special note of the words Jaha said and the way Clarke had listened. They’d murmured amongst themselves when the memory of all the bodies appeared on the screen. They seemed uncomfortable, but Bellamy couldn’t think much of it.

This continues on and on, the shocks becoming so unbearable that every thought he has of Clarke causes him grief.

Then the shocks stop. But Bellamy doesn’t notice.

Because the next memories he has are of him grieving Clarke’s death after Praimfaya and he feels them tear through his skin anyway. But this pain is different; it’s like barbed wire. It’s like his heart is being carved out with a steak knife. It’s like the blood in his veins turns to cement and he’s suffocating.

Bellamy doesn’t realize this is only the beginning.

An agonizing amount of time later passes, and he’s sweating, crying, bleeding. They’d cycled through his memories twice but the second time they hurt a little more. A doctor hangs his chart on the wall and he sees it through teary eyes.

> **B. Blake**

> **Phase 1: Complete**

> **Ready for Phase 2**

Bellamy doesn’t understand it but he’s scared. So in an ill-fated attempt to ensure the safety of those he loves, he creates a plan.

It’s simple, really. Steal a pen and piece of paper. The execution would be the difficult part, but he recalls a memory (and this one doesn’t hurt him) of Octavia being a little girl on the Ark. He’d tripped over seemingly nothing in order to cause a kerfuffle with the guards.

So that’s what he does.

It’s quick and he’s successful, but at great physical cost. His endurance has depleted to all-time lows and he nearly faints for his efforts. But he gets it. One marker and a piece of paper that he neatly slips under his clothing.

They lay him on a gurney of sorts and wheel him to a small room. It’s tiny, really, maybe 40 square feet in area, and has a bed, night table, and chair. They leave him on his own without a word and lock the door.

He takes several moments to collect himself and steady his breathing. He takes the time to also think about all he’d learned while they were looking through his memories uninvited. It was only bits and pieces and nothing concrete, but he knows that if it means anything at all, he needs to tell Clarke. 

So he does. With shaky hands, he pens the last words he may ever say to his best friend.

_Clarke,_

_I don’t know if you’ll get this, but it might be the last thing I get to say to you. Whatever they’re going to do tomorrow is going to change me maybe. I don’t really know what that means but I think they’re going to take my memories. I don’t know how that works but I gotta be honest, I’m afraid. Anyway I’m writing you because they keep talking about you and how you’re the “key” to something. It’s a religious cult thing, Clarke. I think it’s the thing Jaha showed us before Praimfaya. You know Bill Cadogan? I don’t know how to prove it but the Anomaly could be some sort of tech. I keep thinking maybe Becca had something to do with it. Maybe Raven can figure it out??  
_ _I have to be quick because they could come to my room at any minute and I’m not supposed to have paper or pens or whatever. But I had to tell you this._ _No matter what happens, Clarke, I need you to know that I’ll understand if you have to make a tough choice. I’m afraid it’ll be bad and I’ll be dangerous. You do what you have to do, no matter what. Save Octavia, save Madi. Save the others. And yourself.  
_ _I wish I didn’t have to put it in a letter but I might not get to say it and I can’t die or lose myself without telling you that I’m in love with you. I know that it’s the worst_ _timing ever and I wish we had the chance to love each other in this life, but in case we don’t I just want to that and_

A noise from down the hall makes Bellamy nearly leap out of his skin, and he quickly folds that unfinished letter up and shoves it in his pants with the pen, resuming his place on the bed.

* * *

Clarke and the others trek up the mountain, they do. But it takes a day and an uncomfortable night of close cuddling in order to stay warm. It takes rationing pre-rationed rations. Yeah, you read that right. They were extremely ill-equipped to land here. But they were in a rush to find their missing friends and now they’re tired, freezing, hungry.

It’s not exactly the rescue mission legends are made of. Truthfully, it’s a disaster. But Clarke isn’t turning back now, and neither are the rest of them - though, to be fair, they can’t even if they wanted to. Not until they find an Anomaly stone.

But they get there, eventually. It’s almost hilarious. In fact, Clarke actually does laugh. Because when they get to the top of the mountain, a small cabin stands in the snow amongst the trees. But nothing more.

They approach it tentatively. Or at least, the rest of them do. Clarke, in all her decisive dismissiveness opts to barge right in, despite the unforeseen consequences.

But there are none. The cabin is empty.

“Great,” Miller mutters, as he turns his gun about, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. 

Jordan and Niylah enter last after Raven. The cabin is dark but spacious. Clarke lets her hand fall gently on everything as she passes it in the dark until she finds a lamp with a pull switch. She clicks it to life and there’s a collective sigh of relief.

Raven joins her and they’re at a desk, shuffling through the various papers, skimming documents for information and finding nothing. Clarke is relatively quiet and it’s unsettling to the others, but they don’t tell her that. They don’t tell her that it’s scarier when she’s silent. 

Niylah and Miller share a look then that confirms it is, in fact, worrisome, but they don’t mention it.

“Hey, Clarke, what about this?” Jordan chimes in from behind them all. They turn to see him standing in front of a wall. The girls head to his side and are brought face to face with a map. It’s fairly barren, but there are some key points highlighted on, this cabin being one of them.

“ _Nakara_ ,” Raven coos, her hand running over the title on the map. She turns to her left and searches for a pen on the messy desk before rolling her sleeve to mark her bare arm.

_Sanctum - Gabriel’s_

_Earth - offline_

_Nakara -_

“What are you doing?” Clarke asks from Jordan’s right. She watches her write and then looks back to the map.

Raven uses the end of the pen to hit a spot at the map. “Look - it says ‘bridge’ here. I think that’s the Anomaly Stone,” she tells them. “So I’m writing on my arm where they are on each planet so we know how to get to them.”

“Why do you think it’s the bridge, though?” Miller asks from behind her. “I thought you said it’s a wormhole.”

“It is,” Raven confirms. “A wormhole basically is a bridge. It connects two different places in time.”

“Like time travel?” Jordan suggests in awe.

“Sorta, but no,” Raven shakes her head. She steps away as everyone waits for the lesson. “It’s time travel in the sense that we’re going to a different time than where we were, but not in the stereotypical past, present, future, stuff.” She licks her lips and hums for a second. “Like… okay, like this. It took us 95 years to get from Earth to Sanctum, but we did it without a wormhole. I think this means that we’re in the same relative solar system as Earth. But-”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Clarke interrupts. “We learn that there are only like, nine planets in the solar system. Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune-”

“And Pluto, yeah I know.” Raven crinkles her nose. “But look - those are just the planets. That’s not even including the dwarf planets that are so small they didn’t teach about them in schools way back when.” Raven is visibly growing more excited with each word. “But that’s not even my point! Jordan - do you remember when we were first arriving on Sanctum and we were getting a read on the Anomaly?” Jordan nods, confused. “Remember when we determined that it _wasn’t_ a planet?”

“It’s a _moon_ ,” he finishes.

“Wait, what does that mean?” Niylah asks. As a grounder, this stuff is still all too complicated for her sometimes.

Raven starts to pace. “So like I said, I think we’re in the same solar system as Earth, but the very edge of it.”

Miller shakes his head. “Didn’t they send ships to the ‘edge’ of the solar system way before the bombs? Didn’t it only take like, 45 years?”

“36,” Raven nods. “But very good. Yeah, they did. But I’m betting they got as far as the communicative data would allow. See, space is so fricken vast. They did conclusive research before the bombs that said there are at least 500 solar systems in the Milky Way, which - by the way, is a _fricken spiral_!” 

“Our universe is the Anomaly?” Clarke breathes.

“Bingo.”

“What does this have to do with time travel?” Niylah asks.

“Ah, right - thanks, Niylah,” Raven salutes her. “As I was saying: I think Sanctum is in the same solar system as Earth, or maybe even a system adjacent, and maybe that’s why the time is the same. We’re on Nakara, right - but we don’t know if time behaves the same way here. It might, but it might not. It’s not like I actually know the ins and outs of it - it’s just a guess. But I’m _assuming_ that the stones are bridges between worlds.”

“What difference does it make though, if you can pick the place you want to go with the helmet?” Jordan argues curiously.

“Well they wouldn’t have had the helmets at first when they discovered the bridges,” Miller infers, earning a respectful nod from Raven. 

“Right. They would have had to just go through the Anomaly every time they found it to see where it led. Eventually they would’ve developed the technology to travel it.”

“So this means there’s an Anomaly stone on Earth?” Clarke asks incredulously.

Raven tilts her head. “I can’t say for sure that there is anymore, honestly. The helmet said it was offline and therefore inaccessible. It could be because no one’s tried accessing it and it went dormant, maybe.”

“But you don’t think that’s the case,” Niylah finishes.

Miller takes a deep breath. “You think it’s because Octavia lit the bunker on fire?” A pause, then: “What makes you think it’s in the bunker? What if it’s in Becca’s lighthouse?”

There’s an uncomfortable silence amidst the question, then Clarke’s is the voice of optimism. “Raven, what would you need in order to get it back online, assuming it’s possible?”

The mechanic starts at that. “Uh, well…” she paces back and forth while she thinks about it. “I’d need to see this one and I’d need the helmet,” - she gestures to the table, where it lies - “and preferably a computer of some sort.”

“OK. Well, let’s make that a ‘later’ problem,” Clarke decides. “We still have to find the others and get back to Sanctum. But if we figure out a way to return to a _survivable_ Earth along the way, all the better.” Everyone nods in unison.

Raven finishes writing words on her arm then while Miller and Clarke figure out the general direction of the bridge indicated on the map.

Once it’s settled they set off.


End file.
